“I was told to come in for the interview.”
“Sit down.” He gestured and continued typing on the laptop. “Just give me five minutes. I’ve got to fill these forms or else I will miss the deadline.”
“Sure.” Would she be required to work on a laptop? She didn’t know anything about computers. Gabby hadn’t even finished school. Pimps didn’t give education that much importance, and of course, there was always the threat of pesky social workers and teachers who could make reports. Any young girl who was caught in the net of prostitution never set foot in an educational facility again.
This life was so different than the one she saw for the past fourteen years.
He closed the laptop. “Here we go. Ok. May I see your resume?”
Shit! She should have thought this through. It was silly of her assume that she wouldn’t need any paperwork. “Sorry, I didn’t bring it.”
Looking a bit flustered, he picked up a paper and pen. “No problem. You can email it to me later today. What’s your name?”
Email? What the hell was that?
“Gabby Ward.”
“And how old are you?”
“Twenty-two.”
He beamed. “That’s a good age for the job. You will be required to do stacking and filing, and older women get tired. Our last sales assistant was very efficient but she had to leave because her husband got transferred elsewhere. So what’s your level of your education?”
“Huh?”
He waved his hand. “High school? Diploma? Undergrad?”
Gabby shook her head. She resisted the urge to chew her bottom lip. “No! I...I dropped out of school at a really young age.”
He put the pen down, looking a little irritated. “Oh, dear. I am afraid you’re not the ideal candidate. We are looking for someone who is a bit...knowledgeable. Our customers expect the sales assistant to know about books, to have read some of them, and to be generally more...”
Upmarket? Gabby pressed her lips together. It wasn’t his fault. She shouldn’t have assumed that it would be so easy to get a job. “Thank you.” She stood.
When she marched out, Gabby couldn’t help but admire the cool, swanky places she saw in the mall. If she’d worked here, her life would have been so much better. But she simply didn’t have the right qualifications. Taking out the paper again, she checked the third address. It was only two blocks away. Once again, she marched in her high heels, in the sweltering hot and humid air, towards the last interview. When she reached the neon-green board on the upscale building, Gabby paused.
It was a strip club. Sure, it was a classy place. The money would be good. But sooner or later, she would be expected to earn on her back, and then she would get ensnared into the vicious cycle of pimps and prostitutes again. She dared not risk it. After making her escape, she preferred to work in a place where at least she had the option to say no. Here, she would have to do the work that she was good at, but in which she could never open her mouth to speak. The bikers also expected her to lie down on her back and service them, but if she ever said no, there were no repercussions, no fights. She was a free person.
And her freedom was more important than quick cash.
Gabby turned away. Feeling more than desperate and gloomy, she went back to the clubhouse. After walking into her room, she changed into her old jeans and a green, plain t-shirt.
Was there no hope for someone like her?
Would she never get an opportunity to right the wrong that was done to her?
Was she destined to spend her life, giving men a slice of heaven, while they humped over her?
All the hope that sparkled in her heart ever since she started reading the newspapers to get some information about her job prospects faded. She didn’t have anything else to do. Sure, she could keep reading newspapers, go for interviews, but without an education and relevant experiences, her chances were zero. And that was just plain fact.
It was better to accept it and move on.
After walking downstairs, she began to wash the dishes that were lined up in the sink. “Hey, it’s not your turn.” Willow marched over. “What happened at the interviews?”
“Nothing much.” Her voice was dull, listless. “They all wanted someone who had either a college degree or a relevant experience in a decent place. And you know me, I am just a loser.”
“Don’t put yourself down, dear. You’re a gem.” Willow ran a hand over her hair. “You will get your chance.”
Would she?
Gabby doubted it.
She washed her hands and dried them on the towel. There was no point clinging to hope. “No, I won’t. I am a lost cause, Willow. No one is ever going to give me a job. I am good for nothing.”
“No, you are not.” Willow hugged her. “And don’t you dare say something about my best girl, do you hear?”
Best girl? She wasn’t anyone’s best girl. And never would be. Her life was a mess, and it would never be happy and bright.
“You listen to Willow, girl. She always gives the right advice,” said a low, throaty voice.
Gabby turned to look at the speaker. Hunky, handsome Nick Parker sat on the stool. His keen, green eyes were fixed on her. She’d seen him often enough in the clubhouse. He was their treasurer and carried much authority. Easy on the eyes, and of a pleasant demeanor, he caught her attention but she didn’t act on her impulses. Her other work kept her busy enough, and she didn’t have any intention of hankering after a guy only to see him reject her.
She didn’t see the need to reply, but being rude to the treasurer wouldn’t be a wise thing. “Sure,” she said.
He raised an eyebrow. “You don’t believe me? Willow turned my life around. I was a hotshot, cocky boy looking to pick a fight. She was the one who encouraged me to join the club.”
“You’re still the best fighter,” murmured Willow, but she said it in an affectionate, easy way that indicated that she was joking.
“But now I pick and choose my battles.” He laughed. “Heard you didn’t get a job?”
Gabby wasn’t surprised. There were few secrets in the clubhouse. “Yeah. Didn’t have the right background, the correct education, or experience.”
“You could always stay here. We pay you well and if you stay long enough, I will make sure we increase the money you get.”
Did she have another choice?
Not really!
“Yeah, thanks.”
He cocked his head. His eyes bored into hers with an intensity that indicated that he understood her thoughts more than she wanted him to. Nick wasn’t much of a talker. She was surprised that he was taking the trouble to single her out for some attention.
What did he want in exchange?
Immediately, Gabby felt bad for her ungrateful thought. The members of Hell Brigade were more than fair to her. Not one of them ever made her feel as if she was a bonded servant or a hooker. Instead, she was given respect and encouragement. And right now, they were the only friends she had.
“If you want, you could study. Do home schooling. I am sure some of the men would be happy to assist you. If you complete your high school diploma, your chances of a job would increase.”
Surprised by his suggestion, she stared at him. “Home schooling? But I wouldn’t know how to go about it.”
“I could guide you.” He lifted a powerful shoulder. His blond hair gleamed in the bright light. “It’s not a big deal. Another girl did it two years ago, didn’t she, Willow? Now, she is working in the canteen of one of those big hospitals.”
“Yeah!” Willow nodded. “And you earn enough to pay for books and other such things that you would need. Nick could enroll you in one of those support programs. There is an organization that helps with paperwork and exams and stuff, and they don’t charge anything.”
Hope bloomed in her heart. Dare she take the offer? How long would it take for her to complete her degree? And would it serve any purpose?
She wasn’t sure.
Gabby bit her bottom lip. “I don’t know. It seems like a lot of hard work.”
His laughter echoed in the room. “Nothing worth gaining is ever simple, girl. If you are looking for the easy way out, you are going to be disappointed. But if you are ready to buckle down and do your part, you may make something good out of your life. Anyway, it was just a thought. Let me know if you are interested. I will set you up.”
He sauntered off. Gabby stared at his retreating back.
What the hell was that about?
Was he serious?
Could she rely on him to see her through?
It was a decision that she would have to make – and the sooner the better.
CHAPTER THREE
Nick listened to the men bicker. It wasn’t just another day at the club. Something was terribly wrong. Although the bikers weren’t involved in any hardcore illegal activities, their primary means of income was transportation of stolen materials from the town into other part of the state. It was a lucrative business and a risky one. But with careful coordination and planning, they managed to stay a step ahead of the police.
But someone in their club was a snitch.